celebrity gossip, academic style

I’m going to get to Katie Holmes and her appearance on So You Think You Can Dance, but first we need to slog through a bit of backstory. My comps reading has shifted into final gear: I’m attacking the third and final list of books/articles, all of which deal with the intersections between Hollywood, stardom, and shifts in the television industry.

There’s been a solid amount of work on the early move by Hollywood stars onto television — what motivated them, what discouraged them, who was successful and way. I’ve been reading Denise Mann seminal piece and Susan Murray, but I’m most indebted to Christine Becker’s excellent and expansive book, It’s the Pictures That Got Small, which I first encountered when researching Gloria Swanson’s early television career last semester — a massive project I’m sure I’ll post on at some point. Most of the ideas enumerated below are glossed from one of the above three authors.

Unlike old movies, most of which are readily accessible, it’s far harder to access old television — in part because the truly old television (from the late ’40) were often filmed using kinetoscoopes and thus very rarely preserved; in part because there’s not as much of a market for old episodes of a variety show with a now-forgotten star as its host (but the process is cyclical — he don’t remember the star in part because the text isn’t available).

I think the general assumption about stars on early television is that only the most washed way dared go there. There’s a grain of truth in that assumption, as early television was certainly derided and scary, and labeled as such for a number of reasons:

1.) It was a ‘chaotic, low-culture operation’ — it relied on the brass commercialism of SPONSORS….and if you were the star or host of a show, you were required to pitch the products, which was clearly beneath high-class, glamorous stars. What’s more, true “artists” saw the direct influence of sponsors to “corrupt” their craft.

2.) Early television had a very limited reach – it was not truly national until 1952 (due to a ban on station licenses, but that’s another story); in 1951, only 1/4 of America owned a set.

3.) As a result, not much money as incentive.

4.) Basic fear of overexposure: regular appearances could lessen ‘value’ of star appearance – audiences would get tired of them.

5.) Didn’t want one-dimensional images based on character (and not star image)

6.) Super taxing shooting schedule — since almost ALL television was live at this point, you had to be THERE at a certain time, looking a certain way, no exceptions. Huge change from the Hollywood livestyle.

7.) Poor quality of images - especially with kinetoscopes. Makes stars look OLD.

8.) Potential for embarrassment — because television was live, there were no re-takes. You had to hit your mark, your lines, your joke, whatever, each and every time.

Because of these fears, those who made it big in early television were generally radio stars — Amos ‘n’ Andy, for example — or had long histories in vaudeville, which required the same sort of ability to perform on cue (and with a taxing schedule). Comic variety/vaudeville also exploited the traits that television thought defined itself: it provided immediacy (the genre used ‘direct address’ — the host seemed to be speaking directly to you…and you had the best seat in the house); authenticity (because it was live you knew the star had talent — the star was also portrayed as ‘normal’ and ‘just like us,’ ‘down-homey’ and middle class — thus you could trust him when he tried to sell you products at the commercial break) and intimacy (again, you were close to the host, and he was speaking directly to you — and in your private living room, no less!).

But in 1952, a few things changed: first, with the ban on station licenses lifted, television began to spread much more quickly (because you could watch it in more regions) — thus the potential audience for a star became much larger, and advertisers were willing to pay more to fund shows. Second, some shows started to shift to filmed production — meaning they would film it as you would film a movie, including editing and takes, and then broadcast it. This is how non-live television is done today — and it started to catch on in 1952, alleviating some of the concerns of stars. Production also began to move to Los Angeles (it had formerly centered in NYC), which again catered to the Hollywood stars. Finally, the studios — especially Columbia and Universal — started to get into television production themselves, thus encouraging their stars to participate.

Stars — some big name, some smaller — thus began appearing on television in a number of capacities:

1.) As program hosts

Most often, smaller stars — namely ones who had ceased to have a viable Hollywood career — would be hosts, while the bigger stars would serve as guests. The hosts were the real “recycled” stars — people like Adolphe Menjou, Faye Emerson, Dinah Shore, Martha Raye, Groucho Marx, Gloria Swanson, Ronald Reagan, Errol Flynn, the list goes on and on.

2.) As part of an anthology drama

Anthology dramas were the high-class TV of the era — they were written by high-class playwrights, had high production values, or were based on classic novels. Sometimes they included ‘TV-ized’ versions of a recent movie, which would serve to encourage those who hadn’t seen the film to see it in its late runs. Studios could ask/force a star to appear in the TV-ized version — which is how a star as big as, say, Humphrey Bogart first appeared. Because they were “high class” and changed every week, a star could appear once and not fear he was tarnishing his image.

3.) Playing “his/herself”

Stars could appear as guests on a show, take part in a gag, or be part of a quiz/game show (there’s one show where a star had a secret and the audience had to figure it out — when Buster Keaton appeared on the show, his secret was “I’m sitting on a pie.”). The beauty of such appearances is that they would promote the star and his/her recent projects…and also shed light on the “authentic” self of the star. By appearing as oneself, the star was pledging that she was showing the “real” her — when, of course, she was likely acting as what the image of her “real self” was supposed to be. But television, like the one-on-one interview, could thus reinforce the authenticity of that supposed real, true, inner self — behind all the image manipulation. Interestingly, lots of gags with stars involved poking fun at the elaborate construction of their supposed images — Bette Davis appeared on one show and tried to make a cake, look fabulous, do math problems, etc. etc. — effectively making fun of how her publicity had framed her as the perfect domestic AND a glamour queen. Because the studio system had broken down (and with it the star system), stars were not only free to perform such ridicule, but perhaps required to — without the assistance of the studio publicity machines, the corners of the star fabric were beginning to fray. Stars could either make fun of their elaborate and impossible images — or look absurd. (Or you could say it’s beginning of postmodernism and irony….which is part of it as well.)

Appearing on TV could thus prove that you weren’t a construction — that there was a real “you” beneath all that publicity, and you could make fun of it to boot — and that you had genuine talent. For even as television moved from liveness to filmed, it was still seen to “test” a star’s real talent. Several articles from the period attested that someone like Rita Hayworth or Marilyn Monroe would never “translate” well on the television screen, as their images were too elaborate of constructions and would fall apart once under scrutiny, in poor quality transmission, or without the help of make-up artists and multiple takes. You had to have a certain something AND a certain talent to really be on television — perhaps best exemplified by Lucille Ball.

I could go on and on here, but as I’m processing this information, I’ve been thinking about our current recycled stars — and the roles they perform. Obviously, television has changed dramatically in the last 50 years — for one, stars no longer have to do the ‘pitching’ of the product being advertised. There’s also the rise of reality programming, which has obviously turned into a last chance stop for dozens of C and D-list stars.

But I’ve also been thinking of appearances like that of Katie Holmes on last week’s So You Think You Can Dance — in homage to Judy Garland. You can see highlights below:

The performance has been pretty widely ridiculed, citing her lethargy and lack of sparkle (I think this is especially apparent when you contrast Holmes with other (non-star) apperances on the show — all of whom are truly talented dancers).

So why would Holmes appear? Her next film doesn’t come out until 2010, so she’s not promoting anything — save herself? Her own image? Her ‘star’ is certainly at a low point — she can’t seem to open a movie (Mad Money was abyssmal) and the rumors persist of her servitude to husband Tom Cruise. But how does this appearance contribute to her image? Or counterbalance other rumors? Why did the producers approach HER — and not, say, some other star, better known for singing and dancing ability? For while the performance certainly garnered huge ratings for the show, did it add to or detract from her overall profile?

If we look at it in relation to the information I outlined above, I think she’s trying to rejeuvinate her image - add a different nuance. She was trying to do the same thing by appearing on Broadway — but again, she garnered only luke-warm reviews. Is she trying to be a serious actress? But isn’t the new route for ‘serious’ to appear in a small indie film with a juicy role? What is accomplished in linking herself to Garland?

By appearing “in homage” and in a dance role, she’s also not trying to allow access to her authentic self — we certainly don’t believe that she spends her days dancing in a top hat around Cruise, although that might be weird enough to believe. This isn’t a tell-all with Barbara Walters; she’s not poking fun at her image on Saturday Night Live. I mean, I feel like I see more of what I take as the ‘authentic’ Holmes in the picture of her and Cruise dancing (see below) than of her in costume as Garland. Has papparazzi taken over the ‘authenticity’ market?

So what does this particular type of ‘recyclage’ achieve? What about other types of recyclage — such as appearing on SNL, on talk shows, as guest judges, or as actual participants — does it always rejeuvinate a career? Or can it be harmful as well? What about stars like Alec Baldwin or Keifer Sutherland, who have jumpstarted their careers with strong television roles…but can they ever go back to leading roles on film? (The Other Sister might be our answer here).

Would really love to hear your thoughts here, especially on Holmes, as I’m still somewhat at a loss.